Swollen Soul
by Syrasha
Summary: Red. Beneath her hands there was no color but red, and with her first disoriented thought Peatrice believed it to be blood. It proved instead to be the feathers of a Loftwing.


She knew that she wasn't the prettiest; Zelda would always be far lovelier than her.

She knew that she wasn't the smartest; Zelda would always take that title. Always.

She knew that she wasn't the funniest; Zelda would always make him laugh before she did.

Peatrice had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would lose to Zelda in every respect, and that, in the end, Link would always choose his best friend from childhood over the girl with the pigtails from the Item Check. Peatrice laid sleepless in bed, thoughts running through her mind without any regard for the damage that they were doing her heart.

Maybe if she could just be more helpful, she'd be able to catch his eye. Gingerly, Peatrice worked her hair out of the pigtails, and she stood from her bed, looking at herself in the mirror and sighing. Flat chested and curveless... no wonder he only gave her the time of day when he had to stop by the Item Check.

Peatrice flicked a glance her father's way, and, with a snore loud and rumbling enough to shake Skyloft, she was reassured that she wouldn't be missed if she slipped out the door for the briefest of moments. Bare feet met the green grass just off her doorstep, and Peatrice's eyes fluttered shut, lungs taking a deep sigh and inhaling the night air, reveling in her rebellion. Citizens of Skyloft didn't leave their houses at night, the knights the only exception; Pipit giving her a confused, evaluative look was enough evidence of that as she climbed the stairs to the entrance of the bazaar. The girl slipped behind the rug that covered the entrance to the bazaar at night, and she stepped silently, one foot in front of another, to the item check. No matter how quiet she tried to be, it was like every movement was an earthquake.

It was like the weight she was carrying in her heart was making her every movement a labor for the ground to hold up.

She had loved him for a long time, to be honest, longer than she was willing to admit. Sitting down in front of the safe that held all the Item Check's treasures, Peatrice removed one thing, a Life Medal that had been entrusted to her care by the only one in the Knight Academy who consistently used the business she ran, given her father's incompetence. Peatrice traced her index finger around the heart that was engraved on the medallion's surface before walking back outside.

Pipit had disappeared; he could be on any part of the island, as far as Peatrice knew, or he could even have gone home. With him gone, though, Skyloft was silent, the only movement in the blonde girl's vision that of a light flickering off in a house to her left.

She stepped quietly but quickly down the steps, the silence, in a way, unnerving her. Should she go back to her house, and lay insomniatic in her bed for another three hours before the sun finally broke through the clouds? The answer, Peatrice decided, was no, and instead she made her way to the diving platform just off the Plaza. It wasn't a long walk, but, that night, with no one around, it felt as though it took ages. Every step was agonizing, and her heart pounded in rhythm with both her feet and her mind.

_He'll. Never. Love. You._

Over and over again, with every footstep, the thought repeated itself in her mind. The stone was cool under her shoeless feet, and Peatrice took another look around the eerily unmoving Skyloft before sitting down on the edge of the diving platform, legs dangling dangerously over the ledge.

Peatrice felt for his medal in her pocket; it was against company policy to take anything out of the safe unless under explicit orders from the owner of the item, but she would forgive herself this one trespass. This item would be one that she wouldn't possibly lose. It was the closest she would ever get to having his heart near hers, she thought, as she held it nearer her chest.

Briefly, Peatrice wondered why she wasn't crying. Karane cried a fair amount over Pipit, and who could blame her? The boy was so wrapped up in knighthood and taking care of his mother that he would never take time out to notice Karane. The inherent difference, Peatrice realized, between her situation and Karane's, was that Pipit did like her back; his priorities were just a little on the skewed side.

Everyone knew that Link's one and only priority, on the other hand, was Zelda. And perhaps, Peatrice thought, that was why she wasn't crying - she had never, and would never, have a chance with the boy in green who had eyes only for the pretty blonde girl who had disappeared from Skyloft without warning.

That was it. She didn't cry because she had had no delusions about him liking her from the start. Peatrice had known that she had no chance from the very beginning.

The sky was vast. It was empty. It was cold, it was cruel, it was unforgiving, and it was the very embodiment of the unfeeling entity that she would love to throw her heart, body, and soul into. It would be so easy to just fling herself into the abyss, and forget the Item Check, her deadbeat father, the boy who was breaking her heart without knowing he'd ever had it.

He came, and he went; not once did he ever take her feelings into consideration.

She leaned forward, just enough to get her head out over the edge, hands on her knees with no regard for her own safety, and it was from behind her that the hiss came. Peatrice whipped around, the hair that she'd taken out of her pigtails whipping into her own eyes.

She'd known that the Remlits became nasty at night, but she hadn't realized just how vicious they were until this one came at her with fangs bared and eyes wide open. Peatrice shrieked, and suddenly the cat-like creature was on her -

And then she was no longer steady on Skyloft. She was screaming bloody murder for what felt like absolute hours, and she knew that she was done. Peatrice had thought about throwing herself into oblivion and the Goddess had made that possible, the Remlit her vessel for Peatrice's demise.

She slammed her eyes closed and braced herself for the inevitable death. What would the surface feel like when she made contact with it, when it stole the life from her veins? Would it be slow, agonizing? Would it be -

The sun came up, the first cracks of dawn breaking through the clouds, and it was with a heavy heart that Peatrice thanked the Goddess for at least blessing her with the beauty of a new day before her inevitable demise. Almost immediately as she did so, the piercing morning light signaling the ability for knights-in-training to come out on their Loftwings, Peatrice made contact with something.

She hadn't imagined the surface to feel like a Loftwing, and she hadn't imagined to be coherent enough to analyze the thing that would most certainly be her death anyway, and it was with not a little difficulty that Peatrice peeled her eyes open.

Red. Beneath her hands there was no color but red, and with her first disoriented thought Peatrice believed it to be blood. It proved instead to be the feathers of a Loftwing.

And there was only one person in Skyloft with a Crimson Loftwing.

"Are you okay?" Link's voice was enough to take her breath away on a normal day, and, given the situation, Peatrice's voice wavered even more than usual when she responded.

"F-f-fine..."

They dismounted where she had fallen, in the Plaza, and, ever so shyly, she thanked him. Never a man of many words, it surprised her when Link asked, "What are you doing out here so early? And why weren't you in position to just whistle for your Loftwing?"

Peatrice looked at the ground, both ashamed and embarrassed, and said, "I, um, I couldn't sleep. I came out here to think, and, er, I guess the Remlit..."

"Oh. Yeah. Those are nasty at night." Both were quiet for a moment, and Peatrice coughed slightly, scuffing her foot on the stone before realizing she still wasn't wearing shoes. Link, noting this, was quick to look at her face, presumably trying to save Peatrice further embarrassment. "I was actually getting ready to head to the Item Check when I heard your scream."

"Oh. What do you, um, need? I'll go get it and bring it to you." Flustered though she was, Peatrice still wanted nothing more than to be a help to him.

"I need the Life Medal I dropped off the other day, actually. Is that too much trouble?"

Peatrice's hand clenched around the medallion in her pocket, so thankful it hadn't fallen during her tumble towards the ground. She bit her lip, and withdrew it from her pocket, Link's eyes widening as he realized that she'd had it with her already. He took the medal from Peatrice's outstretched hand, and she quickly placed both arms behind her back after he had the item in his possession.

Link took two steps towards Peatrice, and on the second she took a step in the opposite direction, though even then he was still closer than she would have liked. The Goddess's chosen hero placed the Life Medal the Item Check girl had given him in his pouch, and then he quickly said, "Peatrice, you're prettier with your hair down."

So quickly that Peatrice would later think she might have imagined it, Link's lips brushed her cheek, and in just as fluid a motion, he turned and dashed off the edge of the diving platform, flying in the direction of the yellow beam of light that had emerged from below the clouds a few days before.

Peatrice touched her hand to the place that he had touched her cheek, and then turned away from the diving platform and the edge of the island. Skyloft was beginning to come alive; Rupin emerged from over the bridge, heading to the Bazaar; Kukiel walked quickly from her house in the general direction of the Graveyard. The sun had breathed life into Skyloft, and the eerie and terrifying spell that night placed upon it lifted from the island's shoulder.

Her heart and Skyloft were the same. The island had come alive with the morning; Peatrice's heart had come alive with the affection, however brief, Link had shown her. The boy in green had given her hope for something that she still knew, ever so rationally, would never happen.

And it was then that Peatrice began to cry.

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><p><strong>Written for the sheer fact that I have found no fics with this ship, and that I sympathize with Peatrice in a lot of respects. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. :)<strong>

**xxxx**

**Lex**


End file.
